


it’s not snails (he swears)

by Weboury



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Established Friendship, F/M, Fictober 2019, Modern AU, One Shot, high school au (sort of), i'm putting it here unbeta'd because i don't know where to get one, it's fluffy, look at me i finished one of these, they're definitely teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-08 00:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weboury/pseuds/Weboury
Summary: It's never good when Jaime shows up insisting Brienne must see something. But it's definitely not snails (he swears on it).Prompt: “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.”





	it’s not snails (he swears)

Unbidden, Jaime trotted into the yard.

“Brienne, come,” he panted. “You have to see this.”

Brienne arched an eyebrow from her spot on the grass. “What is it?”

Jaime Lannister was many things. He had first been her next door neighbor, later her bike racer nemesis, then baseball teammate, and now friend. But in five years of friendship, he’d always prefaced every problem they’d ever gotten into with ‘you have to see this.’ Experience cautioned her.

“Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me. Come.”

He offered her a sweaty palm.

“I swear, if this is about those snails again..."

“_Giant_ snails,” Jaime corrected airily, glancing up at the sky. “And no. Stop being so stubborn, Bri. Just come.”

He tilted his head at her and smiled.

Jaime had always been beautiful, but sometime around last year, it had changed. It did things to her, that smile. Things she wasn’t sure she felt comfortable feeling. Not for Jaime. Her best friend.

But this is how they played. She held her notebook up for him to see and shook it.

“But homework.”

He rolled his eyes. “For fuck's sake, woman.” 

Jaime tossed her notebook away and took her hand, already whirling on his heels. “Just _come_.”

Brienne let herself follow, repressing a giggle. She liked opposing him, even if she knew Jaime probably had an adventure at hand, just to rail him up.

Dusk was already starting, but he led her across the hedge, past the tree house, above the fence, and into the woods. There had been a time when they ran and played at knights and dragons among the trees, each one taking turns to hack brooms against the trunks and shout at the top of their lungs, ducking from regretfully imaginary dragonfire. Now it was calm, maybe even too quiet. Things had gotten in the way of their games, she supposed. School. Baseball. Age. 

“Jaime, where are we going?” Brienne whispered, trying not to think of Jaime’s hand still clasped in hers.

“Shh. Just follow me.”

She obliged, because of course she did. She always did. Ever since he had stood up for her when stupid Ron Connington had called her ugly in the playground. It had been right after she’d beaten them all in a bike race, and all the other kids had laughed at his japes. Jaime had not. The dust had cleared afterwards to reveal a distraught Brienne forcing a winning, black-eyed Jaime away from the brawl. It felt like a lifetime ago. It had also been glorious.

Jaime kept pressing forward, marching across the blue creek where they used to hunt for frogs, and then beyond the bush where he had found her on the anniversary of her brother’s death.

Brienne swallowed. “Jaime, shouldn't you be studying?”

Jaime shot a quick glance over his shoulder, without slowing down. 

“Pfft. This is more important.”

Brienne bit her lip. His dad had plans for him. The Old Lion, as Jaime called him, wanted his first born son to follow in the family's steps and become something big. Neither Jaime nor Brienne knew exactly what, but Jaime was meant to start next year at an elite Targaryen school in King’s Landing, so stupidly refined they called themselves the Kingsguard. And that meant he had to pass his admission exams. And that meant less best friend time.

But she hated bringing that up. And so did he.

So Brienne settled for snark.

“Is it, like, snail-level of importance?” 

“_Giant_ snails, Bri!” He gave a short laugh. “Admit it, they were cool. Like the ones in medieval tapestries and everything.”

“Ugh. Nerd.”

“Crone.”

They reached the giant white rock at the foot of their favorite hill, where they used to pretend they climbed the highest mountain in the world, even if it was so covered in vegetation they were never able to see beyond the lowest branches. 

Jaime continued up the slope, picking up the pace.

“If we hurry,” he told her, all smiles, all beauty, “we’ll see it.”

Brienne followed, allowing herself the treat of admiring the view. His golden hair now brushed past his jaw, and Brienne liked how his curls moved with the breeze and framed his face. She also liked how he laughed, and how he teased her, and how kind he was even if he tried to hide it, and how he had a soft spot for his young brother, and how he always put himself in front of her when they had to face someone down, even if she had been taller than him since they’d met. She liked him very, very much.

That trail of thought always made her dizzy. And it made her feel young, too young. Inadequate. She was 15, she was not naive. But she felt afraid. Afraid of how strongly she felt about her best in the whole wide world. About him leaving. And about a million other things, and the reasons to not talk about them.

Jaime stopped so suddenly she almost bumped into him. With one last grin, he pushed her past him and onto the top of the hill. 

Someone had cut the trees on the other side, Brienne lamented. But then she saw they cleared a window directly into the valley below and the mountains far away. The sunset light caught in the clouds, rippling with reds and yellows and oranges. 

“Jaime,” she gasped as the light changed and the colors danced in the sky. “It’s beautiful.” The tres had never let them see this in all its glory.

When he didn’t reply, she turned to him. His green eyes were already locked on her, shining in the afternoon glow. 

“I told you it wasn’t snails,” he grinned. 

She gave him an honest laugh. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s dragonfire.” Jaime stepped behind her, getting so close she could feel his breath on her ear. He stretched an arm so she would follow the line he traced in the air. “I found it yesterday. See? That’s Drogon Peak. The clouds are smoke.”

Brienne’s eyes opened wide. “And he’s breathing fire.” 

She felt him nod on her shoulder. “Like in our games.”

“Thank you,” she heard herself say, softly, as the colors began to dim. 

Jaime let his hand drop until it reached her arm. Then, hesitantly, he girded his other arm around her waist, searching for her other hand. Brienne swallowed, but didn’t push him away.

He tightened the hug, his chin nudging her shoulder, his heart on her back. He was warm, and he smelled like pine and dust. Like Jaime.

“Thank _you_,” he whispered. And he pressed a quick peck on her cheek, right below her ear.

Brienne felt her head spin. It was familiar and new and exciting and absolutely terrifying, all at the same time. She felt herself relaxing in his arms, drunk in sunlight and memories and Jaime.

Jaime, who was many things. Golden. A snail fan. Stubborn. Leaving. And her best friend.

So she allowed herself, just for that moment, to be extremely happy.


End file.
